


listen.

by ralphstatortots



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, hh..not sure what else to tag smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralphstatortots/pseuds/ralphstatortots
Summary: “Move a bit closer.” James tells him mid-video. He isn’taskingGeorge to. He’stellinghim.





	listen.

**Author's Note:**

> here’s george nd james because Uhhh Yeah. i love james that is all
> 
> bad summary too soz boz ugh

“Sit down!” James shouts from the sofa, insistent and like he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Sit down, for fuck’s sake, before I come over and make you.”

George isn’t sure what comes over him at the tone James aims at him. He’s only leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as Alex clumsily sets up the podcast equipment and laughing purposely loud whenever he drops something in his tipsy state. He’s about to sit down for the next hour or so, he can stand if he wants to.

“ _Sit down_.” James says much more firmly. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are glued to George with a certain heat of promise on his threat of ‘ _making him_ ’, and there’s something about it that pulls him to realise he’s actually listening and sitting down on the sofa.

Alex cups his hands over his mouth and makes a ridiculously loud “ _Oooh_ ”ing sound when he does sit, and James punches him in the arm hard enough that he squeals, red-faced and laughing as he falls back into George.

George doesn’t laugh at first, but gives a weak chuckle just to appease James when he catches his eyes again. He blames it on the alcohol he’s barely had.

* * *

“Move a bit closer.” James tells him mid-video. He isn’t _asking_ George to. He’s _telling_ him. Just like last time.

“Why?” George asks. He’s almost glad that the glasses provide some sort of shaded view of the world, so he doesn’t have to see the way James’ eyes stick to him and can ignore how it makes him feel all warm under his skin.

“Just move over.” James sighs at him. He’s not even providing a reason behind the command. When George doesn’t actually move his chair closer, James does it himself. He tugs on the arm of the chair and pulls until he’s close enough that their knees are touching.

And it’s _weird_ how that makes George feel. It makes him feel like he could curl up into his chair, or maybe run ten miles just to shake off the burning feeling in his throat after James _makes_ him move. So, instead of saying anything more and ignoring James’ gaze still on him, he starts back up the recording and finds the timestamp he’s looking for in the video they’re watching.

* * *

“Come ‘ere a second.” James shouts in his ear over the loud music booming over the speakers of the club. George doesn’t even get a chance to realise who’s talking to him before he’s being guided down some hallway past the bar and into a storage closet that reeks of something that reminds him of swimming pools. What was that called again?

“Wuh?” He mumbles confusedly and grasps onto the first thing he can feel while slightly dizzy and in the dim lighting from the gap in the door, which just happens James’ biceps. “What’re you doin’?”

“Don’t worry about it, mate.” James whispers to him, steadying George’s swaying with hands on his shoulders as he tries to get a stable balance. “You alright there?” He asks with a hint of laughter.

“Couldn’t be better, my man.” George replies, giggling a little. God, he hates how he laughs when he’s drunk. “Why d’you keep tellin’ me stuff?”

“What?” James questions and George can faintly see the way his handsomely bearded face lights up in amusement. He wants to touch that handsomely bearded face so bad.

“You keep tellin’ me t’do stuff. Like t’sit down or–or to sit _closer_.” George explains, fumbling over words a little. He kind of wishes he had a cosmopolitan or something right now. Something just sweet enough that he scrunches up his face in distaste. “It’s _nice_ , but I dunno what the fuck you’re doin’ and I wanna know.”

“Just helpin’ you out sometimes, mate.” James says a little too cheerfully. The hands on his shoulders loosen their grip and George laughs a little again at his response. “Seeing if you can listen, yeah?”

George hums and lets his fingers trace an imaginary line that blurs into the skin of his friend’s cheek. How is James’ skin so soft? “Thanks for helpin’ me out then.” He mumbles, licking away the dryness he can feel on his lips.

James makes a sound and George jolts and laughs in surprise when a hand cups the back of his neck. It’s still a bit sticky from the drink James had spilt not too long ago, and it makes George wonder how the other man can seem so… _calm_ when he knows they’ve drank the same amount.

“Can y’do something for me, George?” James whispers to him, so quietly that George almost misses it with the loud thumping in his ears that can either be his heart or somebody knocking against the wall. He can’t quite tell. 

“Depends what, mister.” George replies, trying to lean away from the sticky hand. He can feel the remnants of JD melting into his skin and it sends his nerves on fire, for some reason.

“Open wide, yeah?” It’s more of a question than any of the other times James has spoken like this, but George knows it isn’t. He wants to ask _why_ he should and why the fuck they’re in a storage cupboard right now, but his lips are parting before he can, two of James’ fingers poking at his bottom lip and skimming over his tongue.

“That’s good,” James hums and George feels his face warm a little. He closes his lips around the fingers and softly grabs James’ wrist, encouraging the fingers to delve a little deeper into his mouth. “You always listen to me so well, George.”

George makes a noise that sounds wet and muffled to his own ears, but James hums again approvingly when he swipes his tongue across the pads of James’ fingers. They taste sour and bitter, like lime juice, and George feels his nose scrunch up at the taste. He’s tempted to bite down of the knuckles that meet his lips, but he’s suddenly too busy trying not to cough around the fingers when they prod at his molars and reach a little too far into his gag reflex. His eyes water and his vision goes misty in the dark as he stares up at the taller man, but he still doesn’t miss the way James’ eyes light up at his reaction.

The fingers are pulled out after that, and George feels an embarrassing whining noise crawl up his throat while a wave of spit falls over his bottom lip. James’ two fingers are shiny in the minimal light as well.

“What’d you do that for?” George croaks, wiping his mouth on his bare arm and hating how it sticks to his skin like James’ hand had. 

“Just seein’ if you would let me.” James answers, sounding a little confused and airy at the same time.

George makes a noise that he echoes in his ears and steps up on his tiptoes to kiss the taller man, and James holds him in a way that leaves him a little fuzzy in the senses.

* * *

“Need to talk to you.” James tells George simply, a hand curling around George’s elbow and tugging lightly in the direction of his room. Alex and Will look on curiously as George follows, but don’t say anything. Maybe they’d picked up on the weird vibe they had going on lately since the night at the club and wanted it to be over with.

“What is there t’ talk about?” George snaps at the taller of the two once they’re behind closed doors. “You just–You wanted t’ mess with my head or whatever, now we both regret where it got us.”

“God, shut _up_.” James clamours, running a hand through his hair and George can tell he’s stressed, or possibly annoyed. It’s a little hard to tell when James won’t even look at him. He keeps pacing back and forth past the window.

“I don’t think you have any right tellin’ me what to do anymore.” George ignores him. It’s _his_ flat and he can talk if he wants, even if it is to giant arseholes that like to order him around to get a kick out of it. “Not after where it got us.”

“Seriously, shut up, mate.” James laughs bitterly, and the sound runs something cold down George’s spine. “You _let_ me do it. You could’ve said no, George, but you _didn’t_. Reminder: I asked _plenty_ if you were sure, and you said yes every time!” He raises his voice, and George is sure that the other two are hearing all of this. Except he can’t concentrate on whether their friends know about their drunken screw or not because James is looking at him like he’s just kicked a bloody dog.

“Okay, y’know what?” George shrugs and lifts his arms in an open gesture. “Y’know what, James? Fuck off, yeah? Come talk t’ me when you’re not being a massive twat.” He snaps, grabbing the hoodie he’d left on his bed and shrugging it on as he leaves.

Alex and Will call from the sofa as he heads for the door, sounding more and more concerned as he strides. “What the fuck was that, James?” George hears Alex shout as he slams the door, probably hard enough to obtain another noise complaint, but he doesn’t stick around long enough to hear James answer.

* * *

“I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” James mumbles, looking sincere in his apology as he stands in George’s doorway. He’s over to record a podcast episode with Alex, and George hasn’t seen him for a week. He’s not going to give in easy after his and James’ spat, and he’s spent the past six days ignoring all texts and calls from the other man. Even Alex had started bugging him about it, which only made things worse.

“Should’ve thought about that.” George retorts, finding it very tempting to just shut the door in the tall fucker’s face. “Is that all?”

“George, _please_ ,” James begs and he sounds desperate enough that George starts to feel guilt heavily linger in his stomach. “What can I do to make it up t’you? So we can talk again?”

George thinks for a second. He could simply give a ‘fuck off’ and leave it at that, but it wouldn’t work out well in the long run. He can’t keep avoiding the other man in his own living space. “Come over Thursday; Alex is out for a meetin’ and we can talk.” James breathes a sigh of relief and his posture slouches. “Stop calling me at two AM, though.”

James accepts that and offers a small smile, looking a lot less distressed than he had when he first knocked on George’s door. He gives a weak smile back and closes the door.

* * *

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” James breathes as he’s let into the flat. He still has an edge of something sad to his voice, and George has had enough time to dwell and realise he feels like shit about it.

George waves him off and collapses onto the sofa, bunching his knees up when James sits on the opposite side, and runs a hand through his hair.

“I am sorry, though. For shouting at you – It was wrong to snap at you like that over something you obviously were stressing out over. I was too.” It’s admittance that George feels grateful for but it makes him realise just how _stupid_ they’ve been. This could’ve easily been talked out if they just let themselves.

“It’s fine. ‘M sorry for makin’ it all weird and stuff.” George chuckles, wiping a hand over his face. “I–Just wakin’ up that morning freaked me out a little. Same with rememberin’ what happened at the club.” He mumbles, muttering into his sleeve when his cheeks flush at the incidental memory.

“It’s fine,” James wave sat him, letting his hand fall to his knee with a slap that echoes around the room. “I don’t blame you t’be honest. Would be a bit weird to wake up and see _this_ –” He gestures down his front with a grin. “Right?”

George snorts, leaning over lightly smacks the other man’s arm. “I never said it was a _bad_ sight, mate.”

“Sure, sure.” James rolls his eyes sarcastically, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. George can see his throat move with a heavy swallow, but he’s far too focused on how James is suddenly looking at him. Almost _tenderly_. “So, are we mates again?”

George hums and nods. He can’t even begin to think of stopping the smile that crawls onto his lips. “Yeah. We’re mates again.” He affirms, and the way James grins at him almost childishly makes him swallow down something heavy and weighted.

* * *

“Can’t believe I let you do this again.” George pants into the ceiling a few days later, keening when large hands grip his waist and a mouth finds his neck, sucking lightly before nipping at his pulse. “Can’t _believe_ I let you tell me what t’do again.”

James scoffs into his throat and bites once more. “I didn’t _tell_ you to do anything. You were the one being all ‘ _Oh, James, please pipe me, you’re so fit and I just want to feel your strong arms around me, ooooh_.’”

“I don’t sound like that.” George mumbles. He opens his mouth to protest against the high-pitched imitation of his voice, but is stopped when James growls into his throat and shoves his hips into his own. “Fuck off, honestly.” George says through a hitched breath.

“Fine, I will.” James says, suddenly backing away and off where he had crowded George into the arm of the sofa. “Guess I should head home then, yeah?”

“ _No_ , you shouldn’t, actually,” The smaller man huffs irritably, following James to where he’s sat back up and trapping one of his thighs between his knees. “Because we haven’t even done anythin’ yet.”

“Okay,” James shrugs. “Then _do_ something.”

George honestly doesn’t have to be told twice. He catches James’ lips in a heated kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and slips in a small teasing hint of tongue before pulling back, fingers that were resting on James’ jaw trailing over to wipe across wettened pink lips. Then he shuffles back from his spot half-on James’ lap to the floor, nudging away the glass table that hits his upper back as he settles between spread knees. George smirks up at the man above him when he receives a confused look.

“I’m gonna _blow you_ , mate.” George declares quite smugly, hands wandering up James’ thighs to fiddle with the button and zipper of his jeans. “Y’know – get you off usin’ my mouth, which you’re obsessed with?”

“Not my fault you’ve got such a pretty mouth.” James sighs, lifting his hips while George tugs his jeans down to his knees. He sighs again when George teasingly slides the hem of his boxers down his hips too, and George purposely brushes his thumb against the underside of his cock while pulling the underwear down. “A pretty mouth I wouldn’t mind filling anytime s–”

“Stop talking,” George insists, emphasising his words with a finger swiping over the slit of his cock and relishing in the harsh exhale James gives as he tilts his head back. “Unless you’re gonna say somethin’ _nice_ , stop talking.” He scolds and grins when James looks down at him disgruntledly.

Satisfied when James doesn’t reply, George focuses his attention on the cock brushing against his knuckles and the way he can see the muscles in James’ hips quiver as he wraps a hand around the base. He pokes his tongue out and gives a prolonged swipe up the underside, making sure James is watching when he wets his lips and closes them around the head.

“Oh,” James breathes. George can feel a hand cup the back of his neck as he lowers his mouth and tongues a vein; it’s reminiscent of when they were at the club, and George’s skin prickles at the memory of sticky skin and the bitter taste of lime on his tongue.

He peeks up at James, drawing his mouth back to take a few breaths and watching as James’ eyes fall closed when he wraps his lips around him again. “ _Oh_ , okay.” He repeats. George hums around him, repeating the low sound when James’ hand travels up to his hair and encouragingly pushes himself deeper into his mouth.

George gives a muffled wet noise that lingers in the back of his throat, letting James cup his jaw and press his thumb into his cheek so he opens his mouth. He even sticks out his tongue for good measure, digging his nails into James’ bare thighs. He gasps when the older man continues to force his mouth open wide enough that it leaves an ache in his jaw – George isn’t quite sure what James is doing, but it’s hard to focus on the ‘what’ of things when James’ dick presses insistently into the spit building on his tongue and fingers are dipping inside his mouth past the corners.

“Keep it open, yeah?” James breathes and cups his face instead, as if testing George on if he can keep his mouth open. George does as he’s told and lets the embarrassing strangled sound that had built in his throat crawl out his mouth, wincing when he feels a small wave of saliva spill over his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” James hums, pleased. “You going to let me come in your mouth?” He asks, as if he even needs to. George lets out another messy, keening noise and digs his nails into James’ thighs again in answer. The bigger man huffs a noise of approval and wraps a hand around his cock, jerking himself off in a manner fast enough that George can feel the point of James’ knuckles brush his wet lip every few strokes. He swallows loudly, wet and open-mouthed, and James clenches his eyes closed tight.

James makes a low sound when he’s about to come, deep and needy in a way that George can feel in his fingertips, and his hand curls a little tighter in George’s hair. “Shit,” He bites out. “George, can I–” He cuts himself off with a growling sound, and George mirrors it with an approving resonance, sticking his tongue out further past his lips and licking the head of James’ cock eagerly. God, he _wants_ it, like there’s something primal lingering under his skin and is clawing at every instinct he has to tell him to beg for it. George would feel self-conscious about it if he weren’t achingly hard inside his jeans.

“ _Fuck_ ,” James hisses, tilting George’s head back with the hand in his hair. George can see the way his arm tightens and his hips push up eagerly into his fist. His rhythm stutters not long after, a few tight-fisted strokes and a low sound following the come that spills into his mouth. George wraps his lips around his cock, tonguing the head and working James through the aftershocks. “Fuck.” He repeats, breathing a heavy sigh and loosening his grip on George’s hair.

“Good?” George croaks, swallowing heavily and wiping his mouth on his arm. His mouth feels so dry and soaked at the same time, and he grimaces when he catches sight of a small dampened spot of saliva on the carpet.

James nods and strokes his cheek with his thumb, wiping the corner of George’s mouth. “Best I’ve ever had, mate.”

“Like you’ve had literally any lays before me,” George scoffs. He uses James’ knees as leverage to push himself up, letting James kiss him and he sighs into his mouth. He feels drained and wired-up at the same time as a hand creep across his waist and lingers over his zipper.

“George! Will said to answer his texts or he–” Alex’s voice calls out, followed by the bang of the front door closing before he’s cut off. James pulls back and turns to smirk at the boy, and George feels his cheeks flush warm as he coughs awkwardly.

“You a’right?” George coughs, frozen in his spot half-on James’ lap and trying to subtly push the other’s hand away from his crotch.

“ _Am I alri_ –George! I just walked in on you ‘nd James making out!” Alex shouts, covering his face with a groan. “Please tell me you didn’t…y’know.”

George can see the smirk on James’ lips build. “Oh, we did. George here just sucked me off all the way to cloud nine, mate.” He says, emphasising on certain words and making Alex groan again, wiping his face and staring at them both with a look that can only be read as ‘Seriously?’

“Great. I’m goin’ up to Will’s.” Alex sighs and grabs his laptop and headphones from the counter, pausing just before he exits the door. “Just–Clean whatever up, yeah? I’m not sitting there again until I know there’s not anythin’ _gross_ there.” He grimaces at them, then leaves.

“We prob’bly _should_ clean up now.” George sighs and slouches his posture on James’ lap.

“Yeah.” James clicks his tongue in a disappointed manner. “But we’re not _really_ going to, are we?” He teases, sliding a hand up the smaller man’s shirt and pinching his waist. George snorts and kisses him again; he finds it very unlikely they’re going to be moving from the sofa for a while.


End file.
